I've got my hand in your head I've got my hand in your head I've got my hand in your head I've got my hand in your head I've got my hand in your head
Lloyd Banks:] I'm from New York City Eyes on the prize Dodging the worm I'll fry your head like a project perm Bullets burn My right hands in the
devil, you had better keep your hands above the waist Everything you touch will turn to sand when you see the world as nothing more than money in your hand
t got nothing left but ur word and ur balls And you're stressed from the calls of your new friends Beggin' with they hands out Checking for ur record
assist quarters, but I'm really a scorer Place your order, place your bets, I'll erase your set Puncture your lung and inflate your chest I keep killas
hang you Danish darts, language arts, slanger banger you Punk motherfucka... [Chorus: Ghostface Killah] All you talk is poor... All of your fushu, I got gats, Ghostface that But your
I flex my Bentley wings Damn, over your head, got a problem Keepin lyrics down to earth so normal niggas can solve em But the game's extreme so quit your
and The mic, this mic in my hand, I'm ruling So prepare your mind for my lifeline And meet the new Queen of Royal Badness Latifah has the spirit so head
' like Ditty Riding cross the hatas face mad, team gritty Honk your horn twice if your misses lookin' pretty Repeat chorus (Nelly:) Well if you run wit' your
degrees in dungarees, still chilling You know me by now, look out Tical In your barn, at your Phat Farm, milking your cow Street, you know the life, money
like a vacuum She chillin' the Snow White way Fuck Forbes Fuck Money till they put some black heads them motherfuckers Like they come from pores Hip hop is alive My nigga come for yours
Gotta make em dance Would I ever make a whack joint Not a chance Show my male friends call me M&M's Cuz my pussy melt in your mouth and not in your hands
make 'em dance Would I ever make a whack joint? (Not a chance) All my male friends call me M&M Cause my pussy melt in your mouth and not in your hands
on your hood kid I shitted on your hood, got to your burner too late I'm lookin real good, draped out Shinin like a fresh fifty cent piece, your girlfriend
street Nevertheless, we split your head and your chest, now rock to the beat Yo, we got the obscure shit for the street Nevertheless, we split your head and your
, I flex my Bentley wings Damn, over your head, got a problem Keepin' lyrics down to earth so normal niggas can solve 'em But the game's extreme so quit your
the set in other words, I'm in effect Grab your cassettes, hit your rewinds and your ejects Tell your friends that Ak is back and Ak is def Another head
